
American Dramatists Series 



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€lje (l^tDen Cochran 




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American Dra?natists Series 



WILDERNESS ROSE 



BY 



EVE OWEN COCHRAN 

A play in four acts especially adapted for 

the use of American Historical Societies 

and Chapters of the D, A, R, 




BOSTON: THE GORHAM PRESS 

TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED 



Copyright, 1916, by Eve Owen Cochran 



All Rights Reserved 



.^0 4: 






MADE IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 

The GrORHAM Press, Boston, U. S. A. 



MAR 20 i^i? 



CID 46574 



^i. Dedicated to my husband 

WILLIAM MILLAR COCHRAN 



STORY OF THiE PLAY 

Mistress Drew, mother of three unmarried daugh- 
ters, becomes jealous of Naomi Dickinson, because 
John Sylvester, the Minister's son, had admired 
Pentecost Drew, the oldest daughter, until Naomi 
and her father came to the settlement. 

After Naomi's father dies and while John Sylves- 
ter is away finishing a course of study at Harvard, 
Mistress Drew spreads the story that Naomi is a 
witch. She rouses such prejudice against the girl 
that Naomi under the guidance of Warawan, a 
friendly Indian, plans to escape to another settle- 
ment that she may not harm her lover's work for 
God. 

The Selectmen and Council appear at the house 
of the Minister, acquaint him with their intention of 
arresting and trying Mistress Naomi, and in spite of 
his defense of her are about to inform her of their 
decree when the meeting is broken up by the entrance 
of Mistress Drew and other women, who have just 
seen Naomi depart with the ''evil one" into the for- 
est. The Minister and all except Goody, caretaker 
for the Minister, go in search of Naomi. They find 
her with Warawan, the friendly Indian, tending the 
Indians of the settlement who are suffering from 
small-pox. They being unseen by her are glad to 
escape with their repentant hearts turned in her fa- 
vor. 

Meanwhile Goody, the caretaker, has gone to 
Naomi's house and acquainted her with the decree 
of the Council. Goody and Warawan persuade 



Naomi to hasten her departure that night. Wara- 
wan, who has heard the Minister say his son is ex- 
pected to return that night trusts to meet him some- 
where upon the Bay Road and to give Naomi into 
his care. Naomi, who does not expect her lover for 
some days, thinks only of those who may follow her 
to bring her back to trial. 

The Minister is the same night again visited by 
Mistress Drew, who has been to Naomi's house to 
offer her the hospitality of her home, and found that 
she has fled. Mistress Drew is beside herself with 
remorse. 

The men all go out to search for Naomi. They 
find her at last with her lover on the Bay Road. He 
denounces them all roundly for their sin. Naomi is 
persuaded to return and all ends happily. 



WILDERNESS ROSE 



A PLAY OF THE EARLY COLONIAL 
PERIOD IN NEW ENGLAND 

Persons of the Play 

Naomi Dickinson, A Puritan maiden, 

Stephen Dickinson, Her aged father. 

Rev. Jonathan Sylvester, Minister, 

John Sylvester, A Harvard student, to succeed his 
father as minister of the settlement. 

Goody, Caretaker to minister, 

Richard Shepard, A farmer. 

Asa Stone, Joseph Bayley, Commissioners, 

Daniel Torrey, Israel Drew, Selectmen with 
three others, 

Anna Drew, Wife of Israel, 

Pentecost, Abigail, Lydia, Their daughters, 

Goodwife Palmer, A widow, in love with Good- 
man Shepard, 

Caleb Stetson, Recorder, 

Elizabeth Stetson, His wife. 

Margaret Stetson, Their child. 

Job Pratt, Constable. 

Dinah Pratt, His wife, 

Abner Phillips, Drummer. 

Warawan, a friendly Indian. 

Any number of men, women and their children, a 
few friendly Indians with their squaws and papooses. 

Carlos Troyer's Indian songs may be used by 
Warawan. 

Indian music by orchestra between the acts. 



WILDERNESS ROSE 

ACT I 

The woodland surrounding a little Puritan settle- 
ment of Western Massachusetts, summer of 1660. 

The forest trees are not of great size and the un- 
derbrush is fairly well cleared by the frequent fires 
of the Indians and settlers. Pine trees predominate, 
though oaks are frequent. The background shows a 
range of hills with a view of the great river. The 
stage shows the settlement in part ; a little to the left 
the meetinghouse of sawn boards (18x26) and 
thatched roof. Window at either side, door at the 
end facing the main path to the cabins. On the front 
of the meetinghouse are posted various notices. Paths 
lead away from meetinghouse in different directions 
and rude log-houses with stone chimneys at end and 
thatch roofs, straggle at intervals along the paths. 

The foreground shows the main path leading out 
of the settlement (to right of stage). Back of and 
below the meetinghouse (to left of stage) is a path 
to the brook which has a spring of drinking water 
flowing out of a rock. 

{All stage directions from point of view of the 
audience). 

As the curtain rises, the sound of a drum is heard 
and Abner Phillips, the drummer, appears coming 
down the main path of houses toward the meeting- 
house, drumming lustily. From the houses come five 
men who meet before the door of meetinghouse. All 

II 



iX WILDERNESS ROSE 

wear the regulation Puritan costume, leather leg- 
gins and jacket, cloth breeches and black sugar-loaf 
hat, deep white collar and cuffs. All carry flint- 
locks. At the prolonged beating of the drum, men, 
women and children pour out of the houses and flock 
up the paths to the meetinghouse. In spite of the 
"sad colored" Puritan costumes they present a festive 
appearance and are well set off by some friendly In- 
dians who mingle with them, the squaws, especially 
handsome in short cloth mantles of faded red or blue 
with leather sleeves and beaded belts, they are, for 
the most part, straight and slender with long black 
hair combed back and confined with band. The chil- 
dren frisk and play about shooting toy arrows. As 
all approach the group about the meetinghouse door, 
the leader of the five gestures for silence. He is 
spokesman for the selectmen. 

Daniel Torrey — Neighbors and friends, 'tis now 
far past the time, according to the tidings that have 
come, when the expected strangers from the east to 
our good settlement, should have arrived. All prep- 
aration has been made by these (indicates the other 
four) whom ye appointed to receive, with me, the 
wayfarers and welcome them with cheer. As best 
we might we five have labored, planned, and now 
affirm with praise and gratitude that temporary hab- 
itation, food and plenty is assured to all. 

People — It is well, God be praised. It is work 
well done. 

Torrey — -Truly, I think it does behoove us now, 
as hosts to fare upon the path away to meet the 
strangers and with aid and cheer, conduct them 
thither. 

( The Minister J very old and stooped j in black with 



ACT I 13 

white bands steps forward. His benign face radiates 
a light as he moves along. His son, dark, manly, 
very genial, walks beside, as if to support him. The 
old man stops before the receiving committee and 
raises his hands in blessing). 

Minister — May God be with ye, and be not cast 
down, if ye do fare a longer time upon the way, than 
now is thot of, for it well may be that some upon the 
journey from the Bay have fallen sick. It were not 
strange, indeed, if some delay hath come of hostile 
ones to be dealt with and satisfied. If in his prov- 
idence God hath — 

{He is interrupted by the shrill voice of a woman 
on the outskirts of the group). 

Old Woman — Minister! Oh Reverend Sir! 
Minister — {Looking over the heads of the 
group). It is the voice of Faithful Mellen speaks. 
What would you say. Faithful? 

Old Woman — {In high voice). Oh Reverend 
Sir, I have far sight, and, out upon the path I see 
men moving, truly it is so. 

{The men grasp their flint-locks) . 
People — Indians ! perchance hostile Indians ! In- 
dians ! Indians ! 

Minister — Warawan! Where is our faithful 
Warawan ? Come forward watchful one and tell us 
if our people now approach. 

Warawan — {Steps forward. Puts his ear to the 
ground then rises). Ay, friend of the Great Spirit, 
Warawan hears the feet of his white brothers. 

Old Woman — {Querulously). Yea, 'tis not In- 
dians, Faithful Mellen says, and she has eyes to see 
withal. What, pray you, friends, would hostile In- 
dians do upon the path in the broad light of day. 



14 WILDERNESS ROSE 

{Cackles), 

ToRREY — {Ignoring the old woman, coming to 
front again, with dignity), Methinks I, too, can 
glimpse them, Reverend Sir. 

People — ^Ay, they come! They come! They 
come! Let us go to meet them. {Children frisk 
joyously about), 

ToRREY — Let us have order first. Let the chil- 
dren be not too boisterous in their welcoming. I 
think 'twere well if our beloved and most reverend 
friend and Minister were first upon the path, his 
honored son beside him and so let follow, that there 
be some calm, we whom you have appointed, next the 
commissioners, the recorder next, the constable and 
then the families in good and regular order. {As the 
names of the different officers are spoken they step 
into line and stand waiting) , 

Drummer — {At Torrey's elbow). Am I not 
an officer? 

Caretaker for Meetinghouse — ^And I, care- 
taker for the meetinghouse, you have forgot, I should 
follow next after the Constable, Goodman Torrey. 

ToRREY — {Waving them aside). Peace, Peace, 
'tis no time for quibbling. Is every man now pres- 
ent? 

Small Boy — Nay, the cow-herd's in the forest. 

Mother — {Boxing his ears soundly). Be silent 
or thou'U be sent to spell him, froward one. 

Minister — {Facing the people). My people let 
us not forget the day we came upon this wilderness 
and found none but good Warawan to give us cheer. 
Of that ye have in store give liberally and with glad 
hearts, remembering that of the blessed it is said they 
took the stranger in, and made him glad who was 



ACT I 15 

athirst and hungered. Come, Goodman Torrey, let 
us go forward now. 

(As they approach the path, there emerges from 
the woods the leader of the little band of newcomers, 
Goodman Henchman, a dark and stalwart man, car- 
rying two small children, walking beside him his 
wife, a firm, robust woman). 

Minister — {To Henchman), Welcome! Wel- 
come! Valiant for the truth! May God bless and 
prosper thee in this new home. I am thy Minister. 

Henchman — God be praised for it and for thy 
hearty welcome, Reverend Sir. I am called Hench- 
man, this is my wife and these my little ones. {He 
stands by the minister s side as the procession comes 
down the path). This is John Herendeen and his 
bride Lizabeth. They have been wed a month. 
This is their first home. 

Minister — {Taking their hands). May God 
who only makes true marriages combine your hearts 
in one. 

Henchman — This is the blacksmith that I wrote 
thee of, Stephen Flood, and his wife Judith. 

Minister — I give thee hearty welcome, black- 
smith. Thou'rt needed here, there^s much work for 
thy hands. These are thy sons? {Gazes down at 
two half grown boys). 

Blacksmith — Ay, twins. Minister, like as two 
chestnut burrs, and bursting with mischief. 

Minister — {Smiling down at boys). Good stuflE 
for building of our Commonwealth. 

{An old man approaches, supported by a maiden). 

Henchman — Our teacher, Mr. Dickinson, fell 
sick upon the journey. {Indicates the old man). 

Henchman — This is his daughter, Mistress 



1 6 WILDERNESS ROSE 

Naomi, whose gladsome heart has cheered us all the 
way. 

(Naomi comes into the open. Her gown of old 
blue is full in the skirt and quite short, with flat 
bodice, white collar, cuffs and cap. Her golden hair 
hangs in two heavy plaits. Her face has great beauty, 
spiritual as compared with the heavier faces of the 
other women. Her expression is one of great interest 
in her strange adventure. The Minister looks upon 
her with a delight in her beauty, takes her hand. She 
drops her eyes modestly) . 

Minister — Thou art welcome, Mistress Naomi, 
thou, and thy sunny heart shall do us good as thou 
hast done these upon the journey's way. 

{Drops her hand and turns to the old man), 

{She lifts her eyes and meets those of John Syl- 
vester, dark and earnest, fixed upon her. He comes 
toward her and takes her hand. They are observed 
as they stand thus, while the committee wait to greet 
her) , 

Sylvester — {Slowly, and as tho he called her), 
Naomi Dickinson! 

Naomi — {Wonderingly, her eyes still on his). 
Yes. 

{He lets her hand fall and steps aside but it is evi- 
dent that he has eyes for no other. The people press 
about her and greet her with great heartiness, all but 
a little group in the foreground Goody, caretaker to 
the Minister, Mistress Drew and her daughters, Abi- 
gail, Lydia and Pentecost,) 

Goody — {Mischievously to Mistress Drew), 
Thus fair doth call to fair. Hail ! I am come whom 
men dub love! Did'st note the meeting, neighbor? 



ACT I 17 

Mistress Drew — ^Thou art ever ready with thy 
tongue, Goody. 

Goody — Ay, and wi' my eye, neighbor. Tm quick 
in the uptake they say. 

{Pentecost, the older daughter, the finest type of 
New England womanhood, possessed of mental and 
spiritual force walks frankly to Naomi and pleased 
with her loveliness stands with an arm about her). 

Naomi — {To Pentecost). Methinks Heaven will 
be like to this. 

Pentecost — In joy and greeting greatly like, me- 
thinks. Mistress Naomi, we shall be friends. Thou 
art most welcome, truly. Up yonder but a little 
space, thy father's house stands waiting, 'twas built 
for him, for there has not 'till now been teacher here, 
and he's welcome, as thou art. 

Naomi — Mistress, thou art most kind, 'tis writ- 
ten in thine eyes so frank and brown. {Looks into 
Pentecost's eyes). 

Minister — {Raising his voice). My people! 

People — Hush, hush, hush, he has somewhat to 
impart, be still, be still, be still. 

Minister — God has wrought wonderfully to 
bring these friends through the strange wilderness to 
us at last, where, in His Providence, they shall never 
want, but with us work together for all good. And, 
now, because they weary and need staying, guide 
them into their homes, comfort them as ye know well 
how to do, in body and in spirit. May God have all 
in His most holy keeping. 

{People disperse, John Sylvester conducting the 
aged teacher and Naomi to their house. Warawan 
sits silently under a tree whittling. No one pays 
him any heed. He is a familiar figure like a part 



i8 WILDERNESS ROSE 

of the landscape. Last of all to leave are Good- 
wife Drew and her daughters, Pentecost has joined 
the group. As they turn to go awuy {exit to left) — 

GOODWIFE Drew — {To Pentecost, angrily) — 
Prithee, come along and fall on no more strangers' 
necks. 

Pentecost — {Enthusiastically) . Is she not pass- 
ing fair? Not in our buxom way but like a flower. 

Mistress Drew — {Sourly), An soon plucked, I 
doubt not. Did'st note how Master Sylvester's eyes 
did fix themselves upon her and could not look away ? 
'Twas very marked. Did'st hear what that old med- 
dler, Parson's Goody said? Give heed then, Pente- 
cost. 

Abigail Drew — ^Ay, Master Sylvester stam- 
mered like a boy caught in some mischief, could not 
speak at all. 

Lydia Drew — Could not, sayest thou? Nay, I 
was nearer and I heard him say in tones that thrilled 
the marrow of my bones, "Naomi Dickinson!" 

Abigail — {Eagerly), Nay, Mistress Naomi, was 
it not? 

Lydia — {Shaking her head emphatically) , Naomi 
Dickinson. 

Pentecost — Her beauty did amaze him and 'tis 
not surprising, there's no one here can hold a candle 
to her. Methinks she's very like a forest flower. 

GooDWiFE Drew — {Fiercely), And thou art 
like the maize, precious and full of virtue, hold what 
thou hast Pentecost. He has cared for thee I know. 

Pentecost — {Smiling), Ay, good mother, as a 
companion I will pass, I know. Had he a choice of 
sisters he'd take me, mayhap. 

GoopwiFE Drew — {Determinedly), Prithee 



ACT I 19 

cease thy folly, I've seen him look at thee with other 
ej^es, with other look, I say, than brother's look. 
{Pointing up the path). See how they go like lovers 
at first sight, take warning, Pentecost. 

{As they disappear from view Warawan gets up 
makes a gesture of scorn toward the back of Mistress 
Drew, On his face is keenest intelligence) , 

Warawan — ^Warawan will be friend to little an- 
gel one, the Great Spirit hears the red brother say it. 

CURTAIN 



ACT II 

(A year later). 

The scene is the same as in first act, but centers 
at the town brook, back of and a little below meet- 
ing-house hill. 

It is afternoon of a summer day. 

At the brookside are several goodwives and a 
woman-child of ten years. 

The women are dressed in rather sober colors, 
regulation Puritan costume. Their sleeves are drawn 
up to the elbows and their skirts are gathered up. 
They are washing new cloth and skeins of flax and 
yarn in the brook. 

The little girl in brighter blue with cap, collar 
and cuffs of white is a small edition of the women. 
She has a gay, elfin face and sprightly body. She 
is engaged with filling a small sack with butternut 
leaves to be used for coloring cloth. 

As the curtain rises, Goodwife Drew, stout, red 
and choloric, stands erect, holding aloft and scru- 
tinizing a skein of flax she has been washing. 

Goodwife Drew — Ay, 'tis a year gone since they 
came, a year. 

Goodwife Stetson — Methinks I see them now 
as they came filing from the greenwood shade. 'Twas 
a goodly sight. 

Goodwife Drew — {Biting off her words). Last 
of all came the yellow-haired wench wi' an armful 
of flowers. 

Widow Palmer — {Sighing romantically). Aye, 

20 



ACT II 21 

it was plain as plain, love at first sight twixt Par- 
son's son and Goldie Locks. Their love has grovi^n 
apace this little year. 

GooDV^iFE Stetson — I doubt not they'll wed 
soon. In truth they are well mated. 

Mistress Drew — Nay, 'tis not true, they will 
not wed. 

GooDWiFE Pratt — Thou canst not change the 
ways of Providence with thy say so, neighbor. 'Tis 
true they are in love. Best swallow it and done 
with. 

GooDWiFE Stetson — Ay they are in love, 'tis as 
plain as the nose on my face. 

Good WIFE Drew — {Sharply). Then 'tis plain 
enough. 

Good WIFE Pratt — {Peaceably). All has been 
hastened by the maid's loss. I knew the aged man 
was marked for death and I did say as much. 

GooDWiFE Stetson — ^Ay, verily 'twas so. He 
scarce had gathered up his little school when he was 
gone. 'Twas well Mistress Naomi did find so soon 
one in our midst to love her. 

GooDWiFE Pratt — They say Master Sylvester 
scarce can bear to go away to finish college now it 
takes him from her side. 

GooDwiFE Stetson — They say the Parson has 
sent o'er to bonnie England for some goods to fur- 
nish forth the wedding. 

Goody — ^Aye an' Parson's house is soon to be en- 
larged and beautified for Master Sylvester's bride. 

{Mistress Drew and her two younger daughters 
look at one another darkly). 

Widow Palmer — Think you good Mistress 
Drew, the selectmen long will permit Naomi Dick- 



22 WILDERNESS ROSE 

inson to keep the house she now is in? 

GooDWiFE Drew — {Sharply), 'Twas builded 
for the teacher; an' one comes out goes she. 

{Slaps her yarn up and down in the water vigor- 
ously). 

Widow Palmer — {In love with Goodman Shep- 
ard). Prithee, Goodwife, dost like the latest plan 
Mistress Naomi is entering on, of keeping Goodman 
Shepard's house in trim and caring for his orphans by 
the day? Methinks it is not seemly. 

Goodwife Drew — Nay 'tis not seemly. 'Twould 
be for her best good that she should marry speedily, 
methinks. 

{The widow looks crestfallen). 

Goodwife Pratt — Does Goodman Shepard think 
to wed again ? 

Goodwife Stetson — Ay they do say he dotes 
on Pentecost. 

Goodwife Drew — {Hotly). They say! They 
say! They say! 

Lydia Drew — They say are liars. 

Goodwife Pratt — But is there truth in't. Mis- 
tress Drew, tell us thy neighbors? 

Goodwife Drew — {Very excited). Nay, it is 
not so, for I have other plans for Pentecost who am 
her mother and do wish her best. Let Goodman 
Shepard look elsewhere. 

Goodwife Pratt — 'Tis certain the two young 
Shepards dote on Mistress Naomi. 

Margaret Stetson — {The child, who has 
missed nothing of what has been said) — Ay, they 
would like her for their mother well. 

Goodwife Stetson — Keep silence, Margaret, 

Margaret — {Persistently). She sings to them 



ACT II a 

so sweet. 

GooDWiFE Drew — (Bitterly). 'Tis such as she 
do sing the very hearts out of grave men that have 
other need than that of song-birds for to help them 
lead God's people in the ways of grace and truth. 

Widow Palmer — {Retaliation in her eye). How 
dost thy Pentecost, good Mistress Drew? Me- 
thought her cheeks were lacking their wild rose when 
last I looked upon her, but 'tis true thy daughters 
are not young as once they were 

Good WIFE Drew — {Tartly). But they are not 
so old as to be second hand. I understand not Pen- 
tecost, but she is mine and she shall be whatever I 
do bid, do what I say or give good reason else. 

Mistress Stetson — They do say Master Syl- 
vester's to receive a famous English dresser when 
he's wed. 

Mistress Drew — ^Well, the time's no come 
yet, let the lad get his schooling. 

Lydia Drew — Aye he'll not be finished till Sep- 
tember, he told Pentecost. 

{The other women look wisely at one another). 

Widow Palmer — {Mincingly). Aye, he told 
Pentecost. 

Mistress Stetson — At Parson's house, of late, I 
saw the wedding chest Master Sylvester's making 
for his bride, 'tis carved all o'er with coat of arms 
and letterin'. Would it not be well we all should 
make a gift unto his bride? 

Abigail Drew — ^We could most easy fill the chest 
for Pentecost. I'll give a table cloth of honeycomb 
design to my dear sister. 

Lydia Drew — An' I'll give towels to match. 

Goodwife Stetson — {Noncommittally ) . Aye, 



24 WILDERNESS ROSE 

Penetcost is a great favorite with us all who know 
her worth. 

Widow Palmer — But I knew not that the wor- 
shipful Minister's good son came to thy house still, 
kindly Mistress Drew. 

Mistress Drew — {In a tempest of rage). Dost 
thou know every move of the settlement ? What is*t 
to thee who seeks my daughter? {Looks angrily at 
the other women). Or thee, or thee, or anyone in- 
deed. Have done or thou wilt rue it. 

Mistress Pratt — Nay, Goodwife Drew, she 
meant not any harm, for we all have heard it gos- 
siped that Master Sylvester is in love with the maid 
Naomi, and since she has no kin, if she be his choice 
'twould be a kindly act on all our parts to fill her 
wedding-chest and wish her well. 

Goodwife Drew — They will not wed. Think 
you that one who has known love for my Pentecost 
could turn from her to loving a mere witch ? 

Goodwife Pratt — Nay, say it not ! Thou know- 
est 'tis not true. The maid is innocent, ay and most 
lovely. 

Goodwife Stetson — Moreover, Master Sylves- 
ter never has declared himself for Pentecost. 

Goodwife Drew — {Bitterly). Thou knowest 
much that is not thy business. 

Goodwife Stetson — I am for truth however it 
may distress thee neighbor. 

Widow Palmer — 'Tis a great hardship for the 
lass that she's so beautiful. Oho, I could fall in 
love with her myself. 

Goodwife Drew — ^Ay, thou could'st fall in love 
with anything that chanced to look thy way. 'Tis 
wearisome to see thy lovelorn state. 



ACT II 25 

Widow Palmer — Dost say so, nay do not thou 
test me, look the other way. 

GooDWiFE Stetson — As thy friend, Goodwife 
Drew, I warn thee keep a guard upon thy tongue. 
'Twill carry thee too far. Whether men seek or 
whether women wed is in God's plan I take it. Let 
be, let be, neighbor. 

Goodwife Drew — Aye, sit down in a peck- 
measure and let blithsome fate deal as she will. So, 
chicken-hearted one thou art afraid of truth, canst 
not bear to hear things called by their own proper 
names? I say she is a witch and thou for one had'st 
best keep thy eye upon thy Margaret, already she's 
affected. 

Women — Hush! Hush! Hush! Hush! Thou 
art mad. 

Mistress Drew — Nay, very sane in truth and 
that I'll prove to thee, or thee or anyone indeed. 

Mistress Pratt — Aye prove it then, or hold thy 
peace goodwife. Thou art in danger. 

Mistress Drew — Aye we are all in danger. Hark 
ye then, night after night these eyes have seen Mis- 
tress Dickinson depart her house, meet on the wood's 
edge with a black man, and disappear, and though 
I've watched and watched never yet have I seen her 
return. Yet in the morn she's back at Goodman 
Shepard's tending his house and children. 

Lydia Drew — An' looking innocent as a babe. 

Goodwife Pratt — Have you, too, seen her go at 
night with this strange creature into the forest, 
Lydia ? 

Lydia Drew — ^Aye, an' so has Abigail, and Good- 
wife Henchman, too. 



26 WILDERNESS ROSE 

Abigail Drew — Certain I have. Come to our 
house this night and we will show thee. Is not that 
so Mother? 

Mistress Drew — Aye, come at nine or ten, my 
Goodman will be at Council Meeting at the Par- 
son's. 'Tis something after ten that we have seen 

Mistress Dickinson depart to those incantations in 
the forest, her like are given to. 

Mistress Pratt — I would be convinced one way 
or 'tother, wilt thou come Mistress Stetson? 

Mistress Stetson — Aye, I'll come. 

Goody — {Caretaker to the Minister). And I, if 
so be I can get away. 

Widow Palmer — And I. 

Mistress Drew — Fll convince ye or never speak 
again. 

Mistress Pratt — ^Words! Words! Words! 
Thou best to keep them all behind thy lips till we are 
once convinced. 

{Suddenly Goodwife Drew stands erect and takes 
the attitude of one listening intently to some distant 
sound. She gestures for silence. As they listen 
War aw an appears from the woods. He makes 
a friendly gesture toward the group and comes 
to the spring in the rock to drink. He has been hunt- 
ing and carries a pair of grey squirrels). 

Goodwife Drew — Good neighbors, I hear sing- 
ing. Methinks she comes of whom but now we spake. 
Is it not strange she should come hither now ? 

Widow Palmer — Aye, passing strange she 
should so oft' appear when spoke of. 

Child Margaret — ^Aye mother, like an angel, 



ACT li 27 

unawares. 

Mistress Stetson — {Pulling the child aside). 
Hush Margaret come with me into the shadow of 
the trees till she hath past. 

Child Margaret — {Pulling back). Nay, I 
would see Mistress Naomi who is so beautiful and 
sings so sweet. 

Goodwife Drew — {Bitterly), Ay, sings, sings 
an' her own father but six months in his grave. A 
loving daughter truly. 

Child Margaret — {Rebukingly) , Say you not 
so, Mistress. Schoolmaster is not there, he is six 
months in Heaven. Mistress Naomi hath told me 
so. She knows. 

Goodwife Stetson — Keep silence, Margaret. 

Goodwife Drew — {Darkly), Ay, when I was a 
child 'twas a word an' a blow an' the blow first for 
frowardness. 

Child Margaret — Hush! Hear the singing. 
Truly 'tis Mistress Naomi. There is no sound like 
her voice in the wood. 

Goodwife Pratt — Ay, more than one is of thy 
way of thinking, chick, {cackles and looks know- 
ingly at Goodwife Drew who grows blacker. A 
voice close at hand is heard singing). 

Voice of Naomi — Oh, God, thou art my God, 
early I will for Thee enquire. My soul thirsteth for 
Thee, my flesh for Thee has strong desire. 

{Naomi Dickinson appears from out the woods on 
the extreme left, beyond the brook. Two children, 
a boy and a girl of six and seven years are with her. 
They carry great bunches of green herbs, and in 
either hand she has an Indian basket, heaped with 



28 WILDERNESS ROSE 

blueberries. Her gown of coarse blue, faded from 
many washings, and ungraceful in design, cannot 
lu holly conceal her natural graces. Her cap dangles 
from the arm of the little girl and her golden hair is 
garlanded with wild flowers which the children have 
IV oven into a wreath. Much of her charm lies in 
the fact of her unconsciousness of her radiant beauty 
as she approaches the women at the brookside. Her 
very loviiness kindles afresh the rancour of Mistress 
Drew, but the faces of the other women soften as 
she approaches. The two younger daughters of Mis- 
tress Drew eye her with envy). 

Naomi — Good-morrow, friends. {Holds up her 
baskets, smiling). See from the generous store- 
house nature keeps how I have gathered all that I 
can bear. Wilt thou not share with me, kind neigh- 
bors? {Gestures to the others). 

{She smiles at Warawan and sets down her bask- 
ets. She stoops to the spring that gushes from the 
rock and drenching her hand dampens the warm fore- 
heads of the children, then catching some water skill- 
fully in her palms, she gives them to drink). 

{The women continue to gaze at her). 

GooEWiFE Drew — {Turning upon the little 
girl sharply). Dost know thy catechism. Patience? 

{The child hides her face in Naomi's dress turn- 
ing and twisting about). 

Naomi — {Laughing), She hath, today, begun 
to learn, goodwife. Tell what thou knowest, little 
Patience. {The child remains silent). 

Naomi — Nay, little Patience, be not so shy of thy 
newfound knowledge. Wilt speak, child? 



ACT II 29 

Patience — {Stubbornly). Nay, I'll not say it 
now. {Looks distastefully at Goodwife Drew), 

GooDwiFE Drew — {Harshly), 'Twere well an' 
thou taught her obedience to her elders whom she 
has seen, then may she the more readily obey Him 
who is unseen. 

Naomi — Unseen? Nay, goodwife, God is not 
unseen by them that love Him. He walks abroad in 
the beauty of this wilderness. {Her face assumes a 
rapt expression) , I see Him everywhere. 

Goodwife Drew — {Meaningly), Ay, I have 
heard of eyes that see what others cannot see. 
{Makes some motion quickly with her hands). 

The Child Margaret — ^Why does Mistress 
Drew cross her thumbs so, mother? {Crosses her 
own thumbs), 

{The two little children cross their thumbs and 
dance about Margaret), 

Goodwife Stetson — {Breathlessly) , Hush, 
Margaret. 

Margaret — {Big-eyed). Why does Mistress 
Drew cross her thumbs so? 

{Crosses her own). 

{All look askance). 

Goodwife Drew — {Angrily). 'Tis all eyes, 
thy child, neighbor. 

Goodwife Stetson — {Calmly). Ay, she sees 
clearly, very clearly. Come Margaret, come away. 

Margaret — ( Wistfully smiling) . The trees 
and the flowers are God's thoughts, is it not so Mis- 
tress Naomi? 

Goodwife Drew — {Quickly). Nay, the Al- 



30 WILDERNESS ROSE 

mighty sitteth in the Heavens. His thoughts are 
afar off. Fear Him. 

Naomi — {Bending over the children). He took 
children in His arms and blessed them, saying, 
''Suffer them to come unto Me for of such is the 
Kingdom of Heaven.'* 

(Warawan and the three children look at her 
entranced) , 

{Goodwife Drew with a gesture draws the atten- 
tion of the other women to the faces of the Indian 
and the children. Again she makes the motion with 
her hands. Goodwife Stetson with a look of fear 
seizes little Margaret and hurries up the path toward 
the settlement. Naomi and the children wave to the 
little girl and she calls back to them). 

Margaret — Sing more sweet Mistress Naomi. 
Often I hear you singing in my dreams and know 
that you are near me. 

Goodwife Drew — {Again crossing her thumbs). 
Present and yet not present. 

Goodwife Pratt — {Kindly). Nay, maiden, sing 
no more I caution thee. Have not the wise select- 
men decreed that, henceforth, only in the meeting- 
house shall voice be raised in praise. It is not seemly 
so to sing and chant. 

Goodwife Drew — {Sourly). Ay, thou art mak- 
ing light of Holy Psalms with thy continual tum 
te tum, te tum. The selectmen shall hear of this, be 
sure, and you'll be brought to task. Leave singing to 
the heathen. {She glances at Warawan but he appar- 
ently does not heed). 

Naomi — {Wistfully). I sing for gladness of my 
soul, goodwives. Here in the beauty of the wilder- 



ACT II 31 

ness, in the vast silences, in our common life, I have 
found God. I know^ that He is here. Ah, the great 
happiness I know makes my lips move in praise, 
nay, I must sing, goodwives. {JVarawan begins sot- 
to voce an Indian chant), 

GooDWiFE Pratt — {Kindly), 'Twere safer thou 
w^ert spinning, I do think, or carding of the wool, 
knitting at least. 

Abigail Drew — Ay, right, whilst others of thy 
age are hard at work thou art at child's play berryin' 
in the fields. Thou wilt need raiment ere the year 
is gone. Who's to supply it, think you? 

{A shrewd and sinister look takes possession of 
her face), 

Lydia Drew — ^Wilt thou marry then or go like 
the lilies of the field that do not spin ? 

Widow Palmer — Ha! Ha! Methinks the Se- 
lectmen would have somewhat to say to her if so 
she chose. 

Naomi — {Distressed and puzzled). Neighbors, 
ye know I have not that with which to spin {sud- 
denly brightening) but I do know for certain that 
my God has me in His safe keeping, I shall not 
want, indeed I shall not want. Come little ones, 
come home. {Picks up her baskets and starts up the 
path). 

{ The women have wrung out their cloth and yarn 
and are ready to follow toward cabins), 

GooDWiFE Drew — {Calling after Naomi), Be 
not in such haste lest thou break thy tryst. Mis- 
tress Innocence. {She looks meaningly down the 
path to the left), 

Goodwife Drew — Come neighbors, let's be gone. 



32 WILDERNESS ROSE 

Ye'll not forget tonight. FU prove my words or 
never speak again. 

{Women exit by path that leads to settlement and 
War aw an suddenly is gone among the trees, John 
Sylvester comes up the path from the left with some 
newly sawn planks on his shoulder. His face lights 
up with pleasure as he sees Naomi), 

Sylvester — Spirit of loveliness and grace, do I 
indeed behold thee? 

Naomi — {Shyly). Nay, it is I only. Master 
Sylvester, mystified, provoked by some misunder- 
standing, I know not what it may be, with my good 
neighbors, yonder. {Points to the disappearing wo- 
men). 

{ The two children run to him and he puts down 
his planks to toss first one child and then the other in 
the air). 

Sylvester — Well met, small Shepard, and well 
met Patience, hast thou been with my lady in the 
fields? {Both children nod gleefully). 

Little Girl — Is our lady thy lady, Master Syl- 
vester? 

Sylvester — {Heartily). The only lady in the 
world for me, chick. {To Naomi). Give me to 
drink from thy hand, dearest heart, as I have often 
seen thee give to these {indicates the children). 

Naomi — Nay, for I must be gone, friend. I have 
work to do. Come little ones. 

Sylvester — {Tenderly). Give me to drink, 
dear heart, and thou shalt go, perhaps. 

{She looks at him as one who must be obeyed, 
puts her hands together, and fills the hollow with 
spring-water. He stoops and drinks). 



ACT II 33 

Sylvester — Sweet, I do drink to that most love- 
ly one who has my heart in keeping. 

Naomi — {Breathlessly), Master Sylvester! 

Sylvester — Say John, my hearths love. 

Naomi — Nay, nay, I am not worthy. 

Little Boy — Master Sylvester, tell me what 
means it to cross the thumbs so? {Crosses his 
thumbs). 

Sylvester — {Not much heeding). My little 
Shepard it means naught at all. 

Naomi — Nay, friend, I pray thee tell. I would 
know, too. Quick, for I must be gone. 

Sylvester — Thou shalt be gone when 'tis my 
will, Sweeting, not before. Tell me — {He seizes 
her hands and holds them against his breast). Tell 
me, wilt thou be my wife ? I love thee, Naomi, only 
thee forever. 

Naomi — Nay, 'tis not fitting, friend, indeed it 
may not be. I am so poor, I am so alone. 

Sylvester — {In deep tone). Then will I go 
unwed, Naomi. 

Naomi — {Distressed). Nay, say not so, dear 
friend, for thou mayst choose of all the settlement 
the noblest and the best. I who am thy friend do 
— do wish it. 

{He turns her face up to his and looks her in the 
eyes. She closes her eyes, strives to turn her face 
away ) . 

Sylvester — {Smiling tenderly). Say after me — 
I do not love thee, never can love thee, sir. 

Naomi — I — I. 

{He presses her face to his breast). 

Sylvester — Thou canst not say it. Thou art 



34 WILDERNESS ROSE 

truth itself and thou dost love me as I love thee, 
Sweet. Its settled, Naomi. Say, I love thee, John. 

Naomi — {Smiles and tears). I love thee, love 
thee, love thee. {They kiss). 

Sylvester — To-morrow I go back to college, 
love, one little month more and I shall return to 
claim my bride, my rose of wilderness. 

Little Girl — {In shrill voice). Master Syl- 
vester, what means it when the thumbs be crossed 
so? 

{Crosses her thumbs). 

Sylvester — {Suddenly aware of the two chiU 
dren). A plague on the little midges. What aileth 
thee, child ? Who so crossed the thumbs ? 

Little Girl — 'Twas Mistress Drew, so please 
you sir. 

Little Boy — {Dancing about impishly). Ay, 
crossed and crossed and crossed her very thumbs. 

Sylvester — ^What mean the little sprites, Na- 
omi ? 

Naomi — {Still within his arm). 'Tis true the 
Goodwife made a gesture of that sort when I was 
talking with her today. 

Sylvester — {Disgustedly). 'Tis but a pagan 
charm for driving witches ofJ. I did think better 
things of Mistress Drew than she should deal in such 
absurdities. 

Naomi — ^Witches, say'st thou, and why here, to 
cross her thumbs where we are neighbors true ? 

{A shadow passes over his face and is gone). 

Sylvester — Let us forget it, sweet, 'tis nothing 
worth. Say rather, again, thou dost love me and 
will love forever and for aye. 



ACT II 35 

Naomi — Thou knowest, nay my very heart that 
sings for praise and love hath brought me condem- 
nation but today. And thou dost truly, truly, care 
for me ? 

Sylvester — I love thee for all time and after 
time. That bright spirit full of hope and joy is like 
a spur to urge me to the heights that God doth des- 
tine for me. Naomi? 

Naomi — My Minister, and my friend, and lover, 
too, what would'st thou? 

Sylvester — Shine on me like a light from God 
and help me strive to work His works Whose call I 
would obey. 

Naomi — Love, I would rather be thy mate and 
aid to make this wilderness a heavenly spot than be 
enthroned queen of the greatest state the world doth 
know to-day. 

Sylvester — Happily spoken like my own angel. 
Let us go. Come little ones, come now. 

{Turns to the children. They are seen to be 
frisking about with their thumbs persistently crossed, 
A cloud passes over Sylvester s face^ Naomi turns 
pale ) . 

Sylvester — Foolish ones, what mean you? {Re- 
places his arm about Naomi), Let it not fret you, 
sweet. 

Little Boy — {Mischievously), We would keep 
the Evil One away. 

Little Boy and Girl — Away ! Away ! Away ! 

{They circle about the two with crossed thumbs), 

{From the woods near the settlement Mistress 
Drew is seen observing the love scene. Lurking in 
the opposite wood Warawan sees the woman and the 
lovers. His face has a look of keen intelligence). 



36 WILDERNESS ROSE 

Warawan — Angel One has great need of her red 
brother. Warawan will care for her. The Great 
Spirit hears Warawan say it. 

CURTAIN 



ACT III 

Scene I 

(Fall of the same year). 

Interior of Minister's house. 

The main room, entrance to left (front) a ladder 
in far right hand corner leads up to loft. 

At right hand, near front of stage, a door leads 
to leanto. 

The room is of sawn boards with heavy beams 
across the ceiling, smoke darkened. 

At back of room is huge stone fire-place (12x15) 
with large log smouldering. There is a crane with 
brass pot hanging from it, and stone seats on either 
side inside the fireplace. 

A bread-peel hangs on left of chimney and brass 
warming-pan on the right. 

Over the fireplace and from the beams are hung 
strings of dried apples and bunches of drying herbs. 

An English dresser stands at the left wall with 
brass and pewter in neat order. 

Over the dresser on some antlers hangs a flint- 
lock and a sword. 

In the center of the room a table-board on trestles 
is set for the evening meal. It is covered with a 
snow-white cloth. 

Three square wooden trenchers are set, one at 
head of table one at foot and one opposite fire, at 
each place there is also a pewter spoon, a knife, and 
a stone mug with handle. 

37 



38 WILDERNESS ROSE 

A large round wooden trencher stands before the 
place at the head of the table. 

A short bench, on trestles, stands before head 
and foot of table and one at the end facing the fire. 

The burning log partially lights the room and on 
a flat stone in front of the fireplace and leaning 
against it is a pine torch burning brightly. 

As the curtain rises Goody, the caretaker, is 
seen lifting the brass pot from the crane. She sets 
it on a bench and stirs the contents with a wooden 
spoon. 

Goody — Methinks he must come soon. What 
with sick red-skins, tittle tattle and complaint and 
this and that, they'll keep his tottering feet amove 
I warrant. {Sniffs at the ragout in the pot), I 
would that Master John might come tonight, 'Tis 
he knows how to eat and joy my cookery. Eh! 
Whit with your colleges and this and that he's 
never here at all. But ministers mun be made o' 
course, o' course. 

{There is a sharp knock at the door. Goody 
opens it and Naomi is seen white and distraught) , 

Naomi — Oh, Goody, I would see the Minister, 
nay, I must see him speedily. The time is short. 

{Goody puts an arm about her soothingly and 
leads her in). 

Goody — Nay, Parson's not here, birdling. Canst 
not tell Goody what doth ail thee ? 

Naomi — {Wildy), Doth he yet know what they 
do say of me. Goody? That I, that I. — An' I'm 
not mad already I soon shall be, I fear. My brain 
doth reel with lies, flung at me like poisoned tipped 
arrows. They say I am a witch ! 



ACT III 39 

Goody — {Rocking the girl in her arms). Hush, 
Hush. It hath been kept from Parson tfll such time 
as his son should come home and deal with it as 
all lies should be dealt with. I am thy friend and 
they are more, my lamb, believe thee innocent than 
them that doubt thee. 

Naomi — They say I am a witch. Oh, woe is me ! 

Goody — Nay, but thy Love '11 be with us full 
soon. Hell set all right. Take heart poor lass, poor 
lass. 

Naomi — Goody, you do believe in me, I know. 
Oh bless you, bless you, I am more myself at the 
mere thought. 

Goody — ^Ay, I believe in thee, I know that thou 
art good as any angel God e'er sent to this earth to 
teach the heathen how to love and serve. Thou art 
a fit mate for thy lover, lass, be of good courage. If 
thou wouldst mate with the eagle thou m.ust have a 
strong wing. 

Naomi — {Lifts her face from the old woman's 
shoulder and looks into her eyes). Goody, thou art 
inspired, I think, a strong wing would bear me far, 
would it not? 

Goody — ^Aye, my lass, 'tis thine. Thou art of 
the stuff of heroes. Tell me now thy message for 
the Minister. He'll be here soon. Canst thou not 
wait? 

Naomi — {With a look of exaltation). Nay, 
'twas nothing worth. Say naught to him, dear 
Goody, or else say I came to him on the wings of a 
sparrow and departed on eagles' wings. Say I have 
fought the good fight, Goody, and have kept the 
faith. Goody, I love thee. Thou hast saved me I 



40 WILDERNESS ROSE 

do think. Strong wings, Goody, I have them now. 
(She flings her arms about the old woman , and 
goes out). 

Goody — {Puttering over the kettle). How many 
lives since Adam's day have been blasted by gos- 
sip. Ah, well. Master Sylvester will set the matter 
right I warrant. 

{There is a step outside the house. The door 
opens and the Minister in his black suit comes in. 
The white band about his neck is not much whiter 
than his weary old face). 

Minister — Ah, Goody, home at last, and very 
welcome smells the meat and looks the light and 
cheer to me. 

Goody — {Bustling about). Ay, an' full time 
that ye came, Minister, with everything getting cold 
and ye like to drop for weariness an' hunger. Sit ye 
down. {Fills the big trencher with ragout). 

Minister — {Seating himself at head of table). 
Goody ! 

Goody — Ay, Minister, comin' {stands at foot of 
table and bows her head while he is blessing the 
meat) . 

Minister — {Beginning his meal). Well may 
we praise God, Goody. The Indians are better 
of the pox, of that I am quite sure. Our harvests 
all are plenteous, and for me, my son will soon re- 
turn with his new honors from the College. Soon 
we shall ordain him here, God's Minister, with 
solemn laying on of hands and reverent prayer. 

Goody — {Seats herself at foot of table after fill- 
ing the trencher) . He's worthier of a happier state, 
methinks. 



ACT 111 4f 

Minister — {Half laughing). Goody! Goody! 
Thy tongue was ever an unruly member. 

Goody — {Tossing her head). The Indian, War- 
awan, was here this morning seeking thee. Hast 
thou seen aught of him? 

Minister — Nay what did he desire? 

Goody — That I cannot tell, what with his ges- 
tures and his gruntings he made naught plain to 
me b it that he was in the way of being much dis- 
traught, and like his betters in this settlement came 
here to be set right. Ay, poor Master John ! ^Tis 
a life he will lead when he comes to minister to 
this people. 

{The door opens noiselessly and Warawan comes 
in. He makes a sort of obeisance to the Minister,) 

Minister — {Beckons the Indian to the table- 
board). That's as God wills, Goody, my son has a 
strong heart and a merry, a conscience clear as crj- 
stal and a soul that knows no fear save fear of 
Mighty God. Give meat to our red brother. Goody. 

{Having finished his meal the Minister pushes 
his trencher back rises and goes to the fireplace takes 
some papers from his pocket and sits down on the 
chimney-seat opposite Warawan,) 

Minister — Come Warawan, faithful one, sit 
thee down and eat, there in my «on's place. 

{Indicates the vacant seat at the table, Wara- 
wan shakes his head, takes the trencher from Goody 
and remains on the fireside bench). 

Goody — Canst thou not rest awhile. Minister, 
an' not be peering with those tired eyes at yonder 
studyin' ? 

Minister — I know well Goody, thou would'st 
have me rust, but I must be about my Father's work. 



42 WILDERNESS ROSE 

{Goody busies herself about the table and dishes. 
All is serene in the room. Outside there are voices, 
A knock sounds at the door,) 

Goody — {Opening door and peering into the 
dark turns to the old man by the fire), 'Tis the 
Commissioners, Worshipful Sir. 

{Minister rises and goes forward to meet them. 
The two men enter doff their hats and shake hands 
solemnly with the Minister) , 

Minister — I'm glad to greet thee, Mr. Bayley, 
and thee too Asa Stone, good men and true. Sit ye 
down and let us talk together for I am lonely with 
my son still at Harvard. 

( They sit down stiffly at either end of the bench, 
facing him in his rude chair, at left of fire-place) , 

Bayley — {Clearing his throat and glancing fur- 
tively at Stone), Ay, it must be so. When will 
he be coming back from the College, Minister? 

Minister — {Meditatively), Tonight, methinks 
he'll come. Day before yesterday he received his 
honors and was privileged to listen to the orations 
of learned men, in Latin, Greek and Hebrew. He 
heard words of sacred teaching and such prayers as 
quicken hearts for great achievement in God's 
world. Yea he is even now upon the way, methinks, 
hastening to tell me what transpired I could not go 
to witness. 

Stone — {Clearing his throat), 'Tis a keen even- 
ing for September, Sir. 

Minister — Ay, my old bones did feel the chill to- 
day. I have been out among our Indians. The pox 
is not yet gone from them, it has been a hard scourge 
and a long. 



ACT III 45 

Bayley — {Preternaturally solemn). Ay, 'twas a 
pestilence. ( There is silence, broken at last by 
Stone), 

Stone — We are come of a purpose, tonight, Min- 
ister. 

Bayley — {Solemnly) , Ay, of a purpose. 

Minister — {Scrutinizing them). Say you so, 
friends ? Well here I am and glad as e'er to serve you 
in the name of my dear Master and your own. Speak 
on. 

Stone — {Clearing his throat). Hast thou heard 
yet the rumors going round concerning Mistress 
Dickinson, the maid? 

Minister — {Sitting up straight , his hands grasp- 
ing the arm of his chair). Tell me if it be anything 
that with God's aid I yet may remedy ? 

Bayley — 'Tis evidenced by some that she hath 
made a compact with the Evil One and works his 
works of darkness in our very midst. 

Minister — {In a loud voice). Say ye not so, 
goodman, for it partakes of blasphemy when said of 
one so strong in Holy Trust. Judge not, lest haply 
ye be judged one day by that same measure that ye 
mete to her. I love the maid as my own blood ay, 
and believe in her. 

Stone — {Darkly), If this vile thing be true, 
she doth not merit pity, righteous Minister. 

Minister — {Wearily), Say on, say on. Knows 
the poor maid aught of this ? 

Stone — ^Ay, the women have many times accused 
her, called her witch. It is thought best that she be 
refused communion on next Sabbath. {Minister 
groans). Be not dismayed at what we bring thee 
with regret. They say that she has cast the Evil 



44 WILDERNESS ROS£ 

Eye upon thy son, destined by God to guide this 
people, now thou art ready to lay down the yoke. 
Think on this thing. 

Minister — I know that she hath a great love for 
my son and he for her. Tell me, who hath wrought 
this fabric of lies in our midst. 

Bayley — Many have suffered her wiles. Re- 
verend Sir, and ye shall know all. One has been 
asked to come here who knows the worst. She will 
lay before us all that has been discovered. Ay, for 
all do know thou boldest not with witchcraft and 
its doings and are set against it as the hills out yon- 
der. Hence, 'twas thought best to tell thee ere ac- 
tion was taken. 

{A knocking at the door. Five selectmen enter 
accompanied by Mistress Drew), 

Minister — {Shaking their hands). Give you 
good evening, sirs. I never thought 'twould grieve 
me thus to greet ye. ( Gestures them to take seats on 
the bench). Good even. Mistress Drew. 

{He looks at her searchingly. Her face shows 
great excitement and determination). 

Minister — The honored Commissioners have 
broken to me the news which ye doubtless have 
come to speak about. I have a righteous anger at 
the rogue who started playing with such fearful 
fire. {Turns to\ Stone), Tell me what action spake 
ye of if the poor maid is trapped with cunning 
tongues and pronounced guilty. 

Stone — She will be tried before the Council, 
straightway, and if found guilty extirpated at the 
least. 

Selectmen — Ay, away with all workers of sor- 



ACT III 45 

eery! {Warawan who has sat smoking in the chim- 
ney-seat, gets up. All eyes are turned at once upon 
him. He looks for a fleeting second at Mistress 
Drew, makes a sort of obeisance before the Minister 
and goes out). 

Stone — Did Warawan take note of what was 
said, think you? 'Twas a strange look he cast on 
Mistress Drew. 

Minister — He is to be trusted, fear him not. My 
people, that which has come to us has come to other 
peaceful men. Let us see to it that we go not 
rashly but as before God who is supremest Judge. 
'Twas good of ye and kindly to come to me when ye 
need not have come. I will deal righteously as God 
gives me strength. 

{All look at him tenderly and with pity). 

Israel Drew — We all are sure of that, for ye 
have been God's messenger to us, Minister. 

ToRREY — {Speaking to Stone). Ye have told 
him how the maid hath wrought machinations on his 
son? 

{Stone nods affirmation). 

Minister — Sirs, ye know me well and him. that 
is to follow me as shepherd of your souls. He has 
hid naught from me of his love for this maid. From 
that day she came amongst us like a beam of light 
out of the greening wood, he's loved her well. I too 
love her as my own daughter and should have guard- 
ed her more tenderly. 

Bayley — {Darkly). Tho even from the first, 
perhaps, she wrought her works. 

Minister — {Motions for silence). Because I 
saw how it was with him who is my well-beloved, I 



46 WILDERNESS ROSE 

failed not at all times thru the year to observe with 
my best endeavors what manner of woman she 
might be, and now before I learn what 'tis you have 
to lay before me, let me say that I would stake my 
life upon her utter innocence of guilt. 

Mistress Drew — {Bitterly). Methinks it is 
her beauty, like a child's, that now misleads thee 
Minister. It has misled us all. 

Israel Drew — {Sternly), Speak when thou art 
spoken to, woman! 

Minister — Gently, gently, Israel Drew. Come 
friends, say now what ye must. 

ToRREY — {Rises and reads from a paper). Mis- 
tress Henchman, Mistress Drew, Margaret Stetson, 
Abigail and Lydia Drew, The Widow Palmer, 
Freegrace Pettis and others, all have seen her sor- 
ceries and do affirm that she hath many times 
worked sore mischief to them and theirs. 

Minister — {In surprised tones). But the child 
Margaret dotes upon the maid. 

ToRREY — Ay, an' against all orders follows her 
in her mysterious walks in fields and woods. Truly 
the child has been her undoing. 

Minister — How so? 

Mistress Drew — {Impetuously), She hath told 
before me and others how, in the secret places of the 
forest, she hath met with the agents of the Evil One 
and has inscribed her name within his book, ay, side 
by side with Mistress Dickinson. 

Israel Drew — ^Wert thou bidden to speak, wo- 
man? 

ToRREY — Nay, Israel Drew, 'twas what we bid 
her come for. Let her say if she knows aught that 
will enlighten us. 



ACT III 47 

Minister — {Regretfully), 'Tis but a child, the 
little Margaret, and all who know her know her 
elfin spirit and fertile imagination, no stress should 
now be laid upon her words. 

Mistress Drew — {Persistently), But she con- 
fesses that she cannot help herself, must follow when 
she hears the voice of Mistress Dickinson. It mat- 
ters not where she be, if that voice calls she hears it 
and must go. She is bewitched indeed. 

Minister — {Looking keenly at Goodwife 
Dreiv), I doubt not little Margaret will make a 
fine writer of fables one day. Proceed, proceed. 

Mistress Drew — My oldest daughter is be- 
witched by her. 'Twas thought that Master John, 
thy son, did favor Pentecost before that Mistress 
Dickinson did come amongst us. However that be I 
know that Pentecost did love him. 

Minister — ^What signs shows Pentecost of the 
strange malady? 

Mistress Drew — Oh, Reverend Sir, she is 
changed utterly from that sober and submissive maid 
she was. In place of seemly raiment she doth wish 
to wear silk flauntingly and all the gewgaws of a 
sinful worldling. 

Minister — Nay, Nay! I know the maid well. 
She has brain to spare. What gives Mistress Pente- 
cost as the reason for her change? 

Mistress Drew — She says as drab and somber 
garb and conduct brought her no husband, such as 
she could take, she will try other means. 'Tis as 
like her true self as the day the night. Alas, my 
Pentecost ! 

Minister — She likes a jest well. Mistress Pente- 
cost, She has a nature rich and deep. Who shall 



48 WILDERNESS ROSE 

say what our true selves be like when only God 
doth know and our own hearts? I know my son 
did like the maiden well, but never did he love her, I 
am sure. Why Goodman Shepard hopes to wed her 
he has said. 

Mistress Drew^ — {Angrily), Nay, they shall 
not wed, she should have the best, not second-hand 
man and children not her own to labor for and toil 
her fingers to the bone. Oh, my Pentecost ! 

Stone — {Soothingly), She hath much to com- 
mend her, good looks, a somiething humorous and a 
smacking of good sense. I pray God all goes well 
with her. 

Minister — She's noble beyond praising I do 
think. What hath she to say of Mistress Naomi? 

Torrey — She says a free man who could pass her 
by would be a very stick and she so strong upholds 
your honored son, sir, that the gossips say she must 
be mad, because they know she loved him and once 
had hopes. 

GooDWiFE Drew — {Weeping stormingly) , Mis- 
tress Dickinson hath so bewitched her she knows not 
what she thinks or what she says. She is beside her- 
self with grief, concealed. 

Minister — And what of the other daughters, 
Lydia and Abigail ? What say they ? 

GooDWiFE Drew — They know the truth. They 
have had countless evidences of evil Mistress Dickin- 
son. They are still young and hardly dare to ven- 
ture forth after nightfall for fear of the Evil One. 

Minister — ^What say'st thou, Israel Drew? Are 
these things so to thee? 

Goodman Drew — ( Uneasily), I am a busy man, 
Worshipful Minister. I do take the say so of my 



ACT III 49 

women folk, but, if this be not so, 'twill be a sad day 
in my family. {Looks grim). My daughters do af- 
firm that coming on Pentecost suddenly, as she sat at 
carding wool, she all at once became insensible, star- 
ing and rigid, in a sort of trance, and, as they strove 
to bring the life back to her hands by chafing them, 
they felt a shadow passing by the door, and saw 'twas 
Mistress Dickinson who passed, on witching of some 
sort. 

Minister — A sinful superstition seized on them. 
( Turns to Goodwife Drew) . Go to thy home now, 
goodwife, I will come anon and talk with thee, and 
thou shalt know how 'tis with the poor maid. 

{Goodwife Drew goes out reluctantly) , 

Minister — {To the men). Tell me, now, what 
had the Cowherd, Freegrace Pettis, to set forth ? 

ToRREY — He says as Mistress Naomi did pass one 
day she stopped to speak of his full apple trees on 
which the fruit had then begun to form. 'Twas not 
two weeks before his promised harvest was nipped in 
the bud and the fruit withered up without a cause. 

Minister — His trees were singed by fire. I know 
full well. I went to see them, helped put out the 
flame. Had he aught else to say? 

ToRREY — ^Ay, she asked him for a jug of milk one 
night and he had sold it all and could not favor her. 
He said next morning when he went to drive his cow 
out with the others it lay in a spasm and all its stom- 
ach swelled and like to burst and, afterwards, it died. 

Goody — {From the leanto, shrilly). Nay, 'twas 
not so. My brother skinned the beast and found it 
was diseased and died o' that. 

Minister — Goody ! Goody ! 

{Murmurs of wrath from the leanto). 



50 WILDERNESS ROSE 

Minister — {Smiling at Goody). Pray Sirs, for- 
give her, and proceed. 

ToRREY — The saddest bit of all that's claimed, to 
me, is, that the little children she has nursed for farm- 
er Shepard, now say with solemn earnestness that she 
has made them witches. 

Minister — They know not what they say and 
think 'tis something that's desirable. Poor little 
ones, I know they love her well. 

ToRREY — They say the birds talk to her in the 
woods and she does answer them in their own tongue. 

Minister — Does Goodmian Shepard yet know 
what is said? 

ToRREY — He is not one to notice what doth pass, 
he's all for's work. 

Minister — ^Would God that might be said of oth- 
ers too. You spoke of Goodwife Henchman, too, I 
think. 

ToRREY — Ay, she has said that often from her 
house at dead of night, when sleep seemed far away, 
from the window, she hath seen the maid Naomi 
Dickinson venture forth again and yet again; only 
once, altho she did watch well saw she the maid 
come back. Others affirm the same. 

Minister — And that one time saw she the maid 
return ? 

ToRREY — ^A black man came with her to the edge 
of the wood and she came on alone. 

Minister — Nay, friend, that I cannot credit. The 
idle mind is guilty of strange sins of the imagination, 
that I know full well, and that the women of our set- 
tlement are sick of that malady, I am convinced. 

Goodman Stone — {Sternly). I have known my 
women folks to err, it may be — ^nay, but we must 



ACT III 51 

hold firm God's faith in this our settlement. 

ToRREY — Ay, we must keep sacred that which has 
been committed unto us. 

Goodman Drew — (Darkly). Almighty God, 
can we be wronging her ? 

Minister — By all that ye hold sacred it is so, and 
every accusation that ye bring can be explained I 
doubt not. Oh my good people, think on this woeful 
thing, a maid that has known sorrow and has kept her 
soul bright with God's promises who has done count- 
less goodnesses to you and yours, caught in a network 
malice malign has wrought. And I did not cry out 
upon such sin, I doubt not God would save the maid. 

Goodman Stone — I did come with frank and 
open mind and I do' like the maid but for the safety 
of our settlement I council that she be brought at once 
to trial. If she be innocent, God will be on her side. 

ToRREY — 'Tis well said. Our intent in coming 
here was true. We must ever hold the standards high 
that men must live by if they bide with us. Let her 
come to trial. 

Minister — (Covers his face with his hands. 
There is silence for a moment then he lifts his face). 
Good friends, I know the maid is innocent, but let 
peace reign ambngst us. If ye will it so, let us go 
now^, seek out the maid and notify her of the decree, 
the rest lies in your hands, arrest her if you must. 
Yet be forewarned, the maid is innocent. God him- 
self will save her. Come, let us go hence. 

(All arise, as they move solemnly toward the door 
there is a clamor outside, loud knocking on the door. 
Goody rushes in from leanto to open it and there falls 
in, half beside herself. Mistress Drew, supported by 
her young daughter, Lydia, and followed by other 



52 WILDERNESS ROSE 

women,) 

Minister — Nay, nay, Mistress Drew, calm thy- 
self. {Turns to the others). Let not all speak at 
once. What betides, Lydia? 

Lydia — Alas, sir, as my mother was returning 
from your house, at about ten of the clock, she stopped 
for a moment's confab at Goodwife Henchman's and 
they both saw Mistress Naomi Dickinson meet with 
the Black Man at the edge of the dark woods that is 
nearby. 

Goodwife Drew — {Hysterically), Aye, she is 
gone with that vile Prince of Darkness whom: she 
serves. Together they hold evil tryst in the deep for- 
est. 

Goody — {Maliciously). Let's after them, I would 
I might see the Devil's face better to dodge him here- 
after. 

Mistress Henchman — Nay, Goody, do not jest, 
for what we see, may yet condemn the maid. 

Minister — Let us go and seek her, and so make 
sure what 'tis befalls and not on slightest pretext pro- 
nounce her mad or bad. I know the maid is innocent, 
I am not afraid. Come my people, if ye be as honest 
in your contention of her guilt, follow me. 

Mistress Drew — Aye, so we will, I see ye doubt 
our words. Well, we shall see what we shall see. 

{Exeunt all, except Goody, minister leading). 

Goody — {Putting the room to rights), I am no 
deaf and the door is fu' o' cracks. Oh, these blund- 
erin' conceited men, that canna see an inch beyond 
the nose! Could they no guess 'twas jealousy prompt- 
ed Mistress Drew's tale? Sure 'tis a bitter pill not 
one daughter wedded yet. I'm no sayin' Mistress 
Drew's no honest but fair mad wi' jealousy she is for 



ACT III S3 

sure. Now, my poor lassie! What to do for thee. 
Aye, she'll need her sunshine now, poor Naomi. Gone 
with the Black Man, ha! ha! ha! ha! Nay, my poor, 
poor lamb. Goody will save thee yet. Trust thy 
Goody, lassie. 

{Takes a cape from a nail on the wall, wraps it 
about her and goes out). 

CURTAIN 



ACT III 

Scene II 

The stage is darkened totally. The back set should 
represent the dark forest. The curtain raised reveals 
by torchlight several wigwams set in a wooded place. 
From out the gloom at the left, Warawan emerges, 
leading Naomi by the hand. She wears a long dark 
cloak and gauntlets. Her hood has fallen back and 
reveals her face and golden hair. At a low call from 
Warawan several Indians and squaws appear from 
the wigwams. They have torches and the place is 
quite lighted by them. 

Naomi — {Addressing squaw), Weetacum how is 
your man this night ? Let him be brought forth that 
I may dress his sores. He is not patient and I fear 
will bear the plague marks all his life long for it. 
{The sick Indian is brought out on bankets and 
Naomi kneels spreading ointment upon his sores and 
binding them with lint, Warawan stands by holding 
back her cloak that her hands may be free. His ex- 
pression is one of love and reverence. As she works 
there appear to the left, amongst the brush, tht faces 
of the minister. Mistress Drew, Drew, Lydia and 
others. They are motionless and the awestricken ex- 
pressions tell their own story of understanding and 
dismay ) . 

Naomi — {Rising at last). 'Tis a sad scourge, 
Warawan. Have Fleet Foot brought forth now. 

{A young brave is brought out. It is apparent that 

54 



ACT III 55 

he is very sick. His head moves constantly from side 
to side and his hands pick at the blanket), 

Naomi — (Sadly), He is burning away with fev- 
er. Get me a porringer, Warawan. I will bestow 
the best I know to quiet him. It will not suffice I 
fear to save his young life. (Quite loudly). Fleet 
Foot, dost thou know me? I am Mistress Naomi, 
thy friend. 

( The young brave puts his hands together upon his 
breast as if in prayer) , 

Naomi — (Her hand on his forehead). Aye, Fleet 
Foot, the Great Spirit listens. All that you would 
have Him know He knows. Be at peace my brother. 

(She rises to attend a squaw who has come from 
one of the wigwams with a sick papoose on a little 
rug). 

Naomi — ^Ah, it is Little Pigeon, lay him down, 
good mother. (She croons over the baby as she an- 
noints his sores). 

Naomi — (To the squaw). Thou did'st not bind 
his hands as I bid thee. He will bear pox scars for 
all these hurts that so distress him now. Poor little 
brother ! Nay, nay, let him cry. It is but natural. I 
hurt him so. 

(She binds the child with lint and bandages. War- 
awan stands over her anticipating her every want. 
When she has finished she goes toward one of the wig- 
wams). 

Naomi — I will but glance in at the others, Wara- 
wan, to-morrow night I'll attend them. 

(She is gone but a moment and comes forth her 
eyes very big and dark). 

Naomi — ^Warbeck is no longer there, Warawan. 
His place is empty. Has the Great Spirit called him? 



56 WILDERNESS ROSE 

{The Indian bows his head), 

Naomi— -It is well, my brother. Shall we go now? 

{She looks up at the starry nighty then at the group 
of dejected Indians about her), 

Naomi — So beautiful a world, Warawan, God is 
in it, sure all will be well with us, the scourge will 
soon be gone. Bid them all be of good cheer, my 
brother Warawan, say in the settlement we pray the 
Great Spirit may restore them soon. 

{She stands with raised hands clasped as tho pray- 
ing. One or two Indians come and touch her cloak. 
She goes away slowly hand in hand with Warawan, 
The Indians go about their business. At length the 
Minister and his companions appear from the brush), 

Goodman Drew — {Pale and grim confronts 
Goodwife Drew), What have you to say now, wo- 
man? 

Good WIFE Drew — {Wailing), Woman! and I 
his lawful wife. 

Minister — Be patient with her, Israel. 

{He goes about among the wigwams speaking to 
the Indians), 

Goodman Drew — {Sternly), Naught but con- 
fession, sir, will bring relief. She suffers from a fit 
of conscience. Speak woman and be free. 

Goodwife Drew — {Moaning) , I am not all evil 
Neighbors, hear me now. My heart had gone out 
after covetousness. I was angered at the maid, 
Naomi, and accused her wrongfully, but I did think 
she was bewitched. Oh, I repent me, but what can I 
do else ? 

Minister — Calm thyself. Mistress Drew, all shall 
yet be well. 

Goodwife Drew — Nay, not for me, my lies were 



ACT III 57 

spun of hateful jealousies, my sins be on my own head. 

Goodman Torrey — Ay, Minister, our sins be on 
our own heads, did we not all condemn the maid, un- 
heard, she who has ministered to us and ours since 
first she come amongst us. 

Minister — (Sadly). Ye do repent, I know. 
Fear not! God's overwhelming hand will set all 
right. Is His arm; shortened, think you ? Be at peace. 
Show forth your repentance, all, in goodness to the 
maid. Nay, never let her guess what has transpired. 
Come, let us go to our homes now. The hour is late. 

(Exit all thru woods), 

CURTAIN 



ACT III 

Scene III 

Interior of Schoolmaster's house where Naomi has 
lived with her father and still lives when not at her 
daily tasks at Goodman Shephard's house. Fireplace 
with seats. Table board and trestle seats as in Min- 
ister's house. A few shelves against the wall, map 
on the wall, etc. A lighted torch in the chimney place 
dimly shows Goody entering the room dressed as 
when she left the Minister's. 

Goody — Naomi Dickinson, where hast thou hid 
thyself? I am Goody, thy heart's true friend, come 
forth. 

{Flings aside her cape impatiently and going to the 
hearth stirs the logs to a glow). 

Goody — Nay, lassie, do not keep me waiting. I 
have news for thee that's urgent. 

{Lights a candle on the table) ^ 

Goody — {Impatiently), Where is the lass, out at 
this hour of night. 

{Goes to the door puts her hands about her eyes 
and peers into the dark). 

Goody — {Calls out). Oh, there thou art. Naomi! 
It is I, thy Goody waiting thee. Who's with thee 
child? Oh, I see 'tis Warawan, bring himi hither. 

{Enter Naomi followed by the friendly Indian), 

Goody — Hast been to visit the sick, Naomi? I 
thot thou would'st never come. 

Naomi — ^Why Goody, dear friend, what art thou 

58 



ACT III 59 

doing here at this late hour? 

{She puts her hands on Goody's cheeks affection- 
ately ) . 

Goody — {Gravely) , How much doth Warawan 
comprehend think you, Naomi, of our sayings and 
doings in the settlement? 

Naomi — There's little that escapes him Goody, 
'tis a bright brain and a ready wit and hand. Why 
do you ask, friend? 

Goody — Is he true, think you? 

Naomi — I would trust him with my life. Goody. 
He's as true as steel. 

Goody — -{Beckons the Indian from his seat by 
the hearth). Listen, both. I am but now come from 
a meeting at the Minister's where I was present yet 
not present. Being in the leanto and the door full of 
cracks I did plainly overhear the selectmen and the 
council speak of the accusation that jealousy and idle 
tongues have brought against thee, Naomi. 

Naomi — {Takes Goody's hands in hers). Do not 
waste words. Goody, the hour is late, tell me at once, 
what decision did they come at regarding me? 

Goody — {Angrily), The Minister did stand for 
thy innocence lass. Aye, he did speak for thee most 
valiantly. 

Naomi — Goody, Goody dear friend do not fear to 
tell me. 

{The Indian stands with averted face, listening 
intently). 

Goody — The others did adjudge thee guilty, 
sweet, they will come anon to arrest thee. Thou wilt 
be tried on the morrow. What thy fate might be I 
know not, if thou didst bide to see. But thou shalt not 
so bide to be the butt of jealousy and superstition. 



6o WILDERNESS ROSE 

Naomi — Hush, let me think. I must think first of 
him my lover. How it will be with him, if I depart. 
Will he, too, mayhap think me mad or bad ? I could 
not bear it ! 

Goody — And he were here he'd thrust the lie down 
their throats, poor wastrels. They will not listen to 
the man of God who's old and wise in understand- 
ing of them. Come, make haste lass. I will help thee 
make ready and Warawan shalt conduct thee by the 
way thou didst come, back to the Bay Settlement, 
where, please God, thou wilt be safe. 

Naomi — {Very white but with exalted expres- 
sion). Goody, thou dost advise me well, thou art my 
true friend. It will leave the field free for my loved 
one's work for God. I will be gone at once, 'tis best 
so. Come, help me Goody, I have been making ready 
to depart when I had once more seen Master Syl- 
vester. Warawan knew, he was to guide me hence. 

{Warawan takes a shawl spreads it upon the table- 
board, they place the few belongings of Naomi upon 
it, Warawan ties it up, stepping about noiselessly. 
Goody goes to him and puts her two hands on his 
shoulders, looking into his face). 

Goody — ^Warawan, faithful one, dost understand 
thy task? The Great Spirit asks thee, the Red 
Brother to guide His child over the rough roads to 
the Bay Settlement where He will care for her. 

Warawan — ( With exalt atio n ) , The Great 
Spirit asks the Red Brother, Warawan knows! War- 
awan will be faithful. Come ! Come ! Warawan will 
guide the angel one. Indian is much happy, woman. 
The Great Spirit loves Warawan much. Come, 
come. 

Goody — {Drying her eyes. To Naomi), Oh, 



ACT III 6i 

lassie, how the heathen shame us who call ourselves 
the servants of God. Warawan will guide thee. No 
harm will come to thee save over his dead body. {Puts 
her arms about Naomi), Shall I go with thee, 
Naomi, say the word. 'Tis breaking my old heart 
to part with thee, but I believe it's God's will thou 
should 'st go. May his angels be about thee. Ay, 
they will. 

Naomi — {Looking into the old woman's eyes). 
Stay, Goody, and do thy work here, thou hast been 
my good angel , do one thing more for me. When 
Master Sylvester returns, tell him how it was with 
me and that I loved him far too well to stay and be a 
hindrance to him. Fm sure that he will know that 
I was innocent, but tell him that was my last word 
to thee. Before God I nm innocent. 

{She puts her arms about the old woman's neck 
and hides her face against her shoulder ^ then turns 
and takes the hand of Warawan and goes out. Goody 
stands rocking her body to and frOj her hands over her 
eyes), 

CURTAIN 



ACT IV 

Scene I 

{Interior of Minister s house as in Act III, Scene 
I, except table is not set. Minister sits by the fire). 

Minister — 'Tis passing sad evil should come 
out of good. Poor Mistress Drew, I fear Israel 
will be hard upon her. He's an upright man. 'Twas 
the mother's heart coveting for her child made the 
mischief. I doubt not now her conscience is aroused 
she'll leave no stone unturned to make it up to the 
maid. ( There's a clamor outside, loud knocking 
on the door. The Minister goes to open it and there 
falls in half beside herself , Mistress Drew, She is 
supported this time by her daughter Pentecost. Be- 
hind them an excited throng is gathered). 

Minister — {Quickly). What is it, Pentecost? 
What ails thy mother. 

GooDWiFE Drew — {Rocking herself to and fro). 
Her blood be on my head ! 'Twas I that drove her 
forth with lies spun from my wicked jealousies. 

Minister — {Taking the woman s hand leads 
her to a bench). Nay, Nay, Mistress Drew, now 
calm thyself. God is over all. {Turns to the oth- 
ers). Let not all speak at once. What ails thy 
mother, Pentecost? 

Pentecost — My mother couldn't rest till she 
had gone to bid the maid Naomi dwell with us, 
hereafter, and not bide alone in her dead father's 
house, and she did find the cabin empty and bereft 

62 



ACT IV 63 

of that sweet light that has so gladdened it. Naomi 
has fled, Minister, and taken with her, her little all, 
no one knows whither. 

GooDWiFE Drew — Her blood be on my head. 
Oh, I have sinned grievously! {Moans continu- 
ously), 

{Goodman Drew enters the room, looks at his 
wife distastefully ) . 

Goodman Drew — Have done, woman. Pente- 
cost, canst thou not quiet her? I would be heard. 

Pentecost — {Her arm about her mother). She 
suffers from her conscience, father, be patient with 
her. 

Goodman Drew — {To Minister). The men 
have returned and say that Mistress Naomi's not 
in the Indian fort. Minister. There's no time tu 
lose. She may be wandering in the forest now. 

GooDWiFE Drew — {Breaking out afresh). Lost! 
Lost! Lost! Her blood be on my head! I have 
betrayed the innocent. 

Minister — {Taking her hand). Thou hast re- 
pented and confessed. Fear not. God's overwhelm- 
ing hand will set all right. He will care for His 
own. Is His arm shortened think you? Be at 
peace! {Turns to the others). Has aught been seen 
of Warawan? He should be sent at once to seek 
her. {Lifts his voice). Goody! Goody! {There 
is no sound from the leanto) . She sleeps through 
all the clamor. It is well. She may not miss me. 
Come neighbors let's be gone. {Takes his soft hat 
from a peg). 

Goodman Drew — Nay, Minister, it is no task 
for thee. Bide here while we go search until the 
maid be found. I promise thee no path shall be un- 



64 WILDERNESS ROSE 

touched. When I cease to search for her I shall be 
dead. Ill find the maid or perish. 

Minister — Do not deny me what is but my 
right. She is my son's beloved and I go in his stead. 
Now every man to the work and goodwives, maids, 
pray without ceasing the while we be gone. Ye may 
do more than we to bring her back. {Pentecost is 
seen bidding Goodman Shepherd Godspeed on the 
search ) . 

CURTAIN 



ACT IV 

Scene II 

(One o'clock of the same night). 

A bit of forest broken by a bridle-path. Ever- 
green trees and oaks on either side of path. As 
curtain rises Naomi and Warawan are seen emerg- 
ing from the woods at the extreme left of stage. 
By Warawan's torch their faces are plainly seen. 
Warawan stops suddenly his intelligent face illu- 
mined with joy and relief. He takes a leathen flask 
from his pocket and passes it to Naomi. 

Warawan — Drink, angel one, for we have come 
at a good pace and long, weary thou must be, but 
soon thou shalt rest, ay, soon thou shalt rest in 
safety. 

{While she is drinking he stoops and listens in- 
tently. As he rises Naomi looks at him with startled 
eyes), 

Naomi — What dost thou hear Warawan? Oh 
friend, tell me if we are followed. I will not go 
back, nay, I will not go back! Take my life, War- 
awan, let me sleep here in the forest, all will be 
well with me. 

Warawan — {Tenderly), Nay, angel one, the 
Great Spirit is leading thy red brother. Fear not! 
No one shall harm thee, Warawan has said it. He 
hears no followers, he hears — 

{He stops turns toward right of stage and again 
listens. As they so stand there emerges from forest 
at right of stage the heroic figure of the young Min- 
ister j Naomi s lover, returning from Harvard CoU 

65 



66 WILDERNESS ROSE 

lege. His horse lifts a restless headj the young man 
sees the torchlight and reins in his horse. Warawan 
lays one hand firmly upon Naomi s wrist and tak- 
ing a step forward holds the torch before his face. 
In his deerskin leggins, leather tunic, moccasins and 
long hair he presents a striking figure to Sylvester) . 

Sylvester — Warawan, thou art come to meet 
me. Speak, is my honored father ill? 

{Warawan steps aside and moves his torch back- 
tuard revealing the lovely face of the girl). 

Sylvester — Naomi ! Naomi ! 

Naomi — {Wildly, turning toward the Indian). 
Warawan, thou hast betrayed me! Oh Warawan 
who wert my friend! 

Sylvester — {Leaping from his horse). Thou'rt 
come to meet me, Naomi. Oh what a crown to my 
joyful day. {Opens his arms). Come to me Wil- 
derness Rose! 

Warawan — Ay, angel one, so the Great Spirit 
bids thee. Peace be to thee and Warawan's white 
brother! {He disappears as if by magic). 

Naomi — ( Wildly ) . Warawan ! Warawan ! 

Sylvester — Sweet, I am waiting, come to me. 

Naomi — {Distraught). How shall I turn? I 
know not where to go. 

Sylvester — {Advancing and clasping her to his 
breast). There is no place for thee but this, the 
haven of my care where thou shalt stay, beloved and 
cherished till our God takes thee to Himself. {Lifts 
her face up and looks upon it). 

Sylvester — {Sadly). Only a month have I been 
gone from thee, how hast thou grown so wan and 
sad, my sunshine gf the wilderness, in but a month's 
time ? 



ACT IV 67 

Naomi — {Makes as though to withdraw herself). 
I must be gone, it is not meet that I should thus 
be with thee who art now as a minister of God. 

Sylvester — Thou knowest well my mettle, Na- 
omi. I'll never let thee go. Now, sweet, obey, 
open thy heart to me. What has transpired since 
thus I held thee, what darkening cloud has passed 
across my sun ? 

Naomi — {Harshly), They say I am a witch and 
would do ill to thee and this and that one. What 
hast thou to do with powers of darkness Minister of 
God ? Nay, I must be gone. 

Sylvester — {With triumph and confidence). 
Look up, Naomi, look me in the face. Canst say 
in truth that thou so reasonable dost hark to such 
defaming? Art thou a witch? Nay, dear one, I 
thought thy sense did too far outweigh sensitive- 
ness to listen to such chatter. Where wert thou 
going, Naomi, at dead of night with Warawan ? 

Naomi — {Puts her hands over her face). The 
little children whom I loved and tended play I have 
made them witches, oh, I think my heart did break 
to hear them. 

Sylvester — Ay, I have heard them say many a 
time, let's play I'm God, or Satan, or St. Paul. 
The fancy of the infant mind doth lead to any 
words that chance to come. Be brave, love. 

Naomi — ^Ay, so I must and will. It took me 
long to credit what was said about myself who have 
so loved this people. But when at last I knew, I 
vowed a vow that I would never, never ban thy life, 
my lover and my friend and minister. I must 
be gone. 

Sylvester — Nay, thou shalt bless it, sweet, with 



68 WILDERNESS ROSE 

all good counsel. I know how all has come about 
and it is not because I think more highly of myself 
than a man ought I say I am at fault. Wliere 
wouldst thou go dear heart? 

Naomi — I must return to Newtown. There 
they know me well. There I cannot harm thee. I 
must go, nay say no more, dear friend. 

Sylvester — ^And lover, say it sweet. Naomi 
'twas jealousy that brought thee to this place. I 
have been warned that one I like right well has 
valiant advocate in her good mother, whose aim 
these many months has been to banish thee from out 
our settlement. I should have been here on guard. 

Naomi — 'Tis Mistress Drew thou meanest. She 
hath said that once ere first you saw me you did love 
her daughter Pentecost, the strong splendid one. I 
do not blame thee. I love her too! 

Sylvester — If so she thought, 'twas nothing 
more than thought. Pentecost is my good friend. 
She hath a better brain than common and knows 
how to be companion, sharer of a jest or bit of wis- 
dom. I do like her well, but love her I never did, 
nor did she me. Our good friend Richard Shepard 
hath his eye upon her and will wed, if Pentecost will 
have him, I do know. 

Naomi — Much talking, though it explain, can- 
not change the state of matters as they stand. I 
must go, dear friend. 

Sylvester — Ay, you shall go back with me, my 
dearest one, of that be sure. 

Naomi — Methinks 'tis hardly fitting I should 
preach to one destined to be a priest of God. I 
only bid you think on this and know that as you 
purpose to perform your service as perfectly as man 



ACT IV 69 

may, you must not have a stone thrust under foot to 
stumble on by one who loves you more than life it- 
self. 

Sylvester — {Sternly), God knov^s I v^ould 
perform His will as a man may even to putting 
aside my heart's desire and going lonely through this 
earthly life, if there were needed such a sacrifice. 
But nothing points to such an issue, nay, I feel the 
very soul of me cry out on such a mockery. Be 
silent Naomi. 

Naomi — {Persistently), Thou wilt not see, nor 
will I be that stone set for thy stumbling. Let me 
go back to Newtown whence I came. I will take 
up my cross with courage there and bear it bravely 
as a woman may till the death angel bring me my 
release. 

Sylvester — {Kisses her closed eyes). Ay, thou 
art ripe for sacrifice both thine and mine, but I will 
have none of it nor will God either. Ease thy dis- 
tracted bosom of the thought. I promise thee that 
ere a week has fled thou shalt be in thy rightful 
place in our good settlement, honored and beloved. 

Naomi — It cannot be, my friend. It is too late. 

Sylvester — It must be, dear one, else do I, too, 
depart. Listen, for the issue is more far reaching, 
graver, than you know. 

Naomi — Not graver, John? 

Sylvester — Ay, graver. In the dim fastnesses 
of the forest I have walked and thought for many a 
day of this new world and how, upon each who for 
his soul's sake came into the wilderness there falls a 
trial of his every part if he be man, ay God's man 
for the work of building a new nation, and God's 
woman I would add. 



70 WILDERNESS ROSE 

Naomi — {Heroically). I know that thou wilt 
prove true, be a rock to found upon, my Minister. 

Sylvester — Yet thou wouldst handicap me for 
the work by taking all thy strength away from me. 

Naomi — Nay, I would have thee fight and win. 
Am I not going for that very cause? 

Sylvester — My life is wrapped up in the enter- 
prise. I seem to see the future looming large with 
promises that could not be fulfilled in the old world 
but, in God's providence, may be fulfilled in this. 

Naomi — {Filled with awe at his vision). I 
know how with uprightness and with truth thou 
wilt lead this people in thy allotted time. 

Sylvester — And side by side to help me, urge 
me on, thou, grace informed one, shall keep pace 
with me. 

Naomi — Ay, in my spirit I will be at hand. The 
constant prayers I shall be putting up will bear thee 
on like wings. Farewell, farewell. {Tears silence 
her). 

Sylvester — Come, welcome tears, and freshen 
with thy showers the poor crushed heart that else is 
like to break. {Holds her to him). 

{His horse in the thicket shies and acts ner- 
vously. Voices are heard and the beating of brush. 
Goodman Drew, wild of countenance and dishevelled 
suddenly appears on the path). 

Naomi — {Wildly to Sylvester). If thou dost 
love me thou wilt take my life, John. I'll not go 
back, I never will go back. 

Sylvester — Courage Naomi, let me deal with 
them. {To Drew and others). What do ye here? 
Call ye one another men? Nay, cowards all doing 
the Devil's work of persecuting the innocent. What 



ACT IV 71 

will ye answer in God*s Judgment when ye are 
called to answer for these black and heinous lies? 
{Shaking his fist in Drew's face). Speak Judas! 

Drew — {Aghast), Master Sylvester! Master 
Sylvester ! 

Sylvester — {Bursting with wrath). Ay, Mas- 
ter Sylvester, man as well as Priest ye have to deal 
with now, no unprotected woman. What will ye 
do in that dread day when ye must answer for all 
idle wt)rds ? Out with it, scandalmongers all. What 
have ye to say? 

Drew — {In horror). Peace, peace, sir, we — 

Sylvester — Peace! And what peace gave ye 
this angel who has served ye all with sweetest min- 
istry? To what extremities have ye driven God's 
child? Better for ye if a mill-stone were hanged 
about your neck and ye were drowned in the depths 
of the sea. 

Drew — {Sternly). Sir, let me speak. 

Minister — Speak on! 

Drew — {Doffs his hat and comes to Naomi). 
Mistress Naomi, God has bid the storm that late 
broke over thee to be a calm. It is my bitter sor- 
row Mistress Drew hath so maligned and troubled 
thee and she repents now and hath said she is the 
cause of all. Despite her error she doth worship 
God and she is half beside herself tonight her sin 
has scourged her so. Dost thou forgive? Ay, be 
thy noble self as thou hast ever been. Dost thou 
forgive ? 

Naomi — {Transfigured). Ay, Goodman Drew, 
as before the throne of mighty God I do forgive, 
fully and freely. 

{Gives Drew her hand). 



72 WILDERNESS ROSE 

Sylvester — Is this true, Israel Drew, that thou 
hast said? 

Drew — Ay, Master Sylvester, God be thanked 
our eyes were opened in season. We know now the 
maid is innocent. Perchance God's hand was in this 
trial, for we know thy mettle, now. Thou art a 
man. {Grasps Sylvester by the hand). Let us 
hasten now I pray, for they do suffer who are left 
behind thinking that Mistress Naomi is lost. 

{Disappears in thicket with others), 

Sylvester — Now is my promise made good, 
Sweet. They will love thee more than was pos- 
sible before they sinned against thee. Come, here's 
my patient horse, mount Naomi, God wills it. 

{He lifts her to the saddle and as he walks he- 
side her Warawan is heard nearby singing a hymn 
of praise). 

Sylvester — 'Tis our red brother praising God, 
Naomi, my heart is in the song. 

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